


I Want Your Bite

by CobraPandemic



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Vampire, High School, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-07
Updated: 2017-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 23:49:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/399577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CobraPandemic/pseuds/CobraPandemic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spencer has been different lately. He had disappeared for nearly a week that summer. And when he came back, Ryan knew that something about him was wrong. Astronomically wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally uploaded to my Livejournal last year under the name "You're Guaranteed to Run this Town."

** Part One **

Spencer Smith is Ryan Ross’ best friend. He’s been that since Ryan was able to know what a best friend is. And best friends don’t abandon best friends, no matter what…right?

Ryan likes to think that he and Spence have been through some tough times. Starting middle school, getting bullied, puberty, first girlfriends…

Ryan likes to think that he could be there for Spence through anything.

Ryan likes to think that Spencer would do the same for him.

Well…

Ryan has learned the hard way that  _thinking_  isn’t a smart idea.

You see, Spencer has been different lately. And not in the general Spencer way. Generally, Spencer Smith was known around school as the quiet, sarcastic, mild-mannered junior. Nothing less, nothing more. If you weren’t in student government or advanced placement classes you would have no idea who Spencer Smith was.

That is mainly the reason why Ryan is so drawn to Spence. Spencer isn’t loud and obnoxious like Brendon (who Ryan loves) and he isn’t too shy and reserved like Jon (who Ryan isn’t quite as fond of yet). Spencer, in Ryan’s eyes, happens to be perfect.

But ever since that Blink-182 concert (at which Ryan and Brendon had spent the entire three hours drooling over the power of Mark Hoppus) Spencer has changed.

He had disappeared for nearly a week that summer. It had been a Saturday when the boys had attended the concert.

It was the next Friday when Spencer came strutting into he and Ryan’s first period English class, sun glasses, tight black v-neck and skinny jeans on. Not to mention the fairly expensive looking Nikes he wore. Spencer looked more like the football jock Gabe Saporta than he did the mathlete Spencer Smith.

Ryan couldn’t avert his eyes for anything as his best friend completely ignored him, sitting in his usual seat opposite Ryan (they sat at tables, two to each).

“Where the hell have you been?!” Ryan mouthed, flailing his arms in a gesture of pure ‘I should kick your ass-ery’. Spencer arched a brow at him behind the dark aviators but did not respond.

Ryan let his eyes wander over his friend, picking out the finite changes in his posture, the set of his lips, the crook of his neck as he pretended to read his copy of Othello. Ry knows he is pretending. Spencer is a damn genius and he’s read every version of Othello eight times.

Mr. McCoy continued to eye Spencer, the same thing going through his mind as Ryan and everyone else in the room; ‘What the hell happened?’

Thirty-five minutes passed of Ryan staring at Spencer and Spencer  _reading_ before the bell rang for second period.

As the students filed out, Ryan had to run to catch his friend (who had made it out the door before anyone had even stood).

“Spence! Hey, Spence wait up!” Ryan calls after him, lugging his bag full of text books high onto his bony shoulder.

Spencer continued to ignore Ryan, entering the boy’s bathroom instead. Ryan stopped at the door, weighing the situation, and decided ‘what the hell’ before going inside.

He didn’t see Spencer. He didn’t see anyone but he was positive Spencer came in here.

“Spence?” He calls out. Nothing. Not even a shuffle.

Ryan pulls the ‘check under the stall door’ trick and sighs when he sees flashy Nikes underneath the handicap stall.

“Hey…Spencer?” He knocks but the door creaks open when he does. It hadn’t been bolted apparently.

Ryan peaks inside and Spencer is standing there, sun glass still on. Only difference being that his hood wasn’t over his hair. His _somehow_  shinier, straight, silkier, browner hair.

“Spence where the hell have you been? Ginger blew a gasket when you didn’t show up last week! Where did you go? Did you like…hook up with some girl or-“

Ryan took a step back when Spencer laughed. It wasn’t the laugh Ryan was used to hearing that’s for sure. It was, in a sense, the same laugh but it rang out like…like…Ryan had no words.

“How’s that funny?! Your  _mom_ , Spencer! She thought you were dead-“

He laughed again, clutching his stomach in an animated fashion. Ryan’s eyes narrowed.

“What. Happened.” Ryan’s words weren’t that of a request. They were a demand and not an optional one.

Spencer sighed, a couple stray chuckles hiccupping out. “I already spoke to Ginger, relax.”

‘Ginger? Spencer’s never called his mother that! What the fuck is this shit?!’ Ryan thinks with a frown.

“No. And what’s with your voice? Did you get vocal cord surgery or something?” Ry questioned his best friend (who had now found a leisurely place on the wall to lean and stare). Spencer rolled his eyes but Ryan couldn’t tell behind the dark tints of the sun glasses.

“You worry too much, Ross. Here, I…uh…  _bought_  you this-” Spencer waves Ryan off before reaching in to his back pocket and pulling out a silky (expensive-looking) mauve scarf.

Ryan almost broke his pissed-off front at the sight of it, but eyed it suspiciously. Gifts. Spencer always got gifts when he fucked up. And an expensive scarf? Spencer hates scarves and he hates when Ryan wears them.  _Something_  is wrong. Something is _astronomically_  wrong.

“Where did you get money for this?” Ryan asked, grabbing the scarf (which was Georgiou Armani. Those range from expensive to really fucking expensive) and held it up. “These things cost…one can cost more than your car, Spencer.”

Spencer shrugged. “It was nothing really. Have it. Not like I need it. Or want it, it’s hideous.” He made a grossed out face and this time Ryan smiled a little.

“Smells like ladies perfume. What’s up with that?”

“It’s a scarf, Ryan. Tons of chicks and gay guys have tried it on before you. Tell me…How does it feel to have gay guy sweat on your hands?” Spencer smirks his Spencer Smith smirk and Ryan grins. But he wouldn’t lie and say that he couldn’t see the…foreign…frighteningly strange difference in Spencer’s tone.

He would just pretend it wasn’t there like Spencer pretended to read that book.

***

On Saturday evening Ryan heads over to Spencer’s as he usually does. He hadn’t fully expected Ginger to be  _cool_ with her son’s disappearance like Spencer had so blatantly put it that morning but…she was all smiles and puppies and rainbows when Ryan showed up that night.

“Ryan, honey! How are you? How’s school?” She had bombarded the thin boy with kissed and hugs as soon as he entered her home. She was dressed for a late night at work so she was on her way out.

Ryan smiled but he was genuinely confused as shit.

“Hi, Ginger. I’m great and school is okay. Is Spencer here?” He knows Spencer is  _there_ , per say. He just wanted to see if Ginger made a bitter face at her son’s name. Any tell-tale sign that she cared about him disappearing would be nice.

“Mhm!” She says with a bright smile. “In the family room. You two have fun. And no girls.”

“Right. Thanks Ginger.”

Ryan hears her say a merry “Welcome, sweetie.” As he heads for the Smith living room.

He found his friend lounged across the couch wearing sweats and a NYU tee. He almost looked semi-normal except for the paleness of his skin and the fact that the popcorn bowl was untouched. Usually Ryan would arrive to a couple pieces and the kernels.

“S’What’re we watching? Star Wars? Tron?” Ryan began to run off his expensive list of Spencer-nerd films. Spence chuckled but held up a dvd case, waving it in the air.

“Dracula?” Ryan asks voice monotonous as ever.

“Dracula.” Spencer replied with a smile. It was then that Ryan got a good look at his eyes. They were a brighter blue than Ryan was accustomed to. Than anyone could be accustomed to actually. They were fucking glowing.

He almost says something but Spence presses play. Ryan instead goes over and sits where Spencer’s socked feet aren’t.

The air between them is categorically cold and dry which is weird because it’s usually warm and comfortable. Ryan spends about an hour staring at Spencer under the glow of the television and he’s sure Spencer sees him.

“What?” Spencer finally turns away from the vampire seducing a young woman. He doesn’t look irritated but he sure as fuck doesn’t like okay.

“What happened, Spence?”

Spencer groans. “It’s like you said, Ry. I hooked up with a girl who lived a little while away and couldn’t get a ride back to the city until Friday morning.”

Spencer is a bad liar. Ryan knows this. So he doesn’t stop interrogating him. “So you couldn’t call or text or anything? Or email? I know the girl had a computer, Spence. Your retarded rules to dating say clearly that you don’t date anyone outside the realm of technology…”

Spencer groans yet again but sits up, flipping on the lamp beside the sofa. “Ryan-” He begins, getting the thin boy’s attention. Ryan didn’t know why but suddenly the intensity of Spence’s stare willed him silent. “-I was at a girl’s place. Stop worrying. Stop asking so many questions.”

Something in his head switched off. The part of his brain that controlled free will. And he answers. “Okay.”

Spencer smiles. “Good.”

The two of them watch the remainder of the film and Ryan can’t help but look from Spencer to Dracula and back again. Not many similarities but enough to make Ryan wonder.

The movie finally ended and Ryan found himself curled up on the cushion falling asleep. He made a mental note that he needed to call Pete in the morning.

 

** Part Two **

Ryan woke up and found himself in a bed. Spencer’s bed but Spence was not in the vicinity.

He rolled out of the soft bed and stretched, grimacing when he realized that it was dark in the room. He looked the digital clock that read 8:25. It was morning. And unless it was the end of the fucking world, there should be sunlight bleaching this room. Ryan groaned and shuffled over to Spencer’s window, pulling back the dark curtain and letting light fill the room.

‘Better’ he thinks.

He runs a hand through his hair just as Spencer comes inside and hisses out a “Goddammit!” before shutting the door. Ryan rushes over and opens it to find Spencer against the wall, face in his hands.

“Spencer. Spencer you alright, what’s wrong?” Ry reaches for his friend but Spencer glares at his hand as If to say ‘Don’t you fucking dare’. Ryan let’s his hand fall to his side.

“I’ve got a headache…” Spencer finally takes his face from his hands fully, blinking a few times. His eyes aren’t as bright as last night but they’re definitely not normal blue. “…That’s why I closed the curtains.”

“Oh.” Ryan feels like a jerk now. “Oh, sorry. Sorry…”

“It’s cool. Um, my mom-“ Spence clears his throat when Ryan sighs out in relief, his breath wafting into Spencer’s face. His nose scrunches and Ryan blushes. Morning breath? “-cooked you some pancakes and bacon before work. Downstairs…I’ll…be down in a few.”

And he disappeared down the hall and into the guest bathroom.

***  
By the time Ryan makes it down, ginger has already left and there is a plate stacked high with pancakes and strips of hot, fattening pork. Ryan grins.

“Thank you Gin…Thank you.” He says as he sits down, stuffing a strip of bacon into his mouth. He savors these days where Ginger cooks for him and he can sleep through the night. At home with his dad there’s very little of either.

At some point Spencer wanders into the kitchen and sits at the island far from Ryan.

“So you wanna go over to Bren’s? See if he maybe wants to practice some of the stuff I’ve got written?” Ry asks, sucking back a bit of orange juice. Brendon had recently disclosed that he could in fact sing and that Ryan was in fact tone deaf. So in their  _band,_ Brendon is the singer.

Spencer looks like he’s about to say yes but shakes his head. “No not today. I’ve got a ton of make-up work and I didn’t really get any sleep last night. Plus I have to clean the garage. As punishment, you know.”

“Yeah. Yeah cool.” Ry shifts in his seat, pushing the rest of his food away. Something wasn’t right.

Spencer hadn’t slept last night, Ryan knows because he hardly sleeps. And when he tossed he saw that Spencer was staring out the window. Not to mention how dark and tired his friend’s eyes had become. The bright blue was gone now. Replaced with a dark navy, almost black at this angle.

“You want the rest of this? I’m stuffed.” Ryan picks up the plate and tries handing it to Spencer who makes a face and declines.

“Uhm, no thanks. I’m not hungry right now. Not for that anyway.” He tries for a smirk by Ryan can see that he’s trying hard to hide something. Ryan frowns.

“Spence if-”

“You should go. I’ve got a lot to do, you know. And I’m sure your dad is worried or something.”

Ryan raises a brow at this. Spencer Smith would do anything to avoid doing work. He’d procrasturbate (procrastinate in the form of masturbating) to avoid responsibility! And he NEVER turns down food.

“Fine. See you in English.” Ry settles and goes to the living room to grab his bag and jacket before leaving.

He definitely needs to call Pete.

***  
Ryan ends up at Pete’s house instead, Pete sitting across from him in his basement. He looks like a smug motherfucker because Pete Wentz knows no other expression.

“So let me get this straight-” Pete begins, lips turning up into a smirk. “-Your boyfriend went MIA for a week, comes back pale and wearing sun glasses and a hood, freaks out when you open the curtains in his room, thinks you have bad breath, won’t let you touch him, brought you a rich bitch’s scarf and he won’t eat anything.”

“Or sleep. And he isn’t my boyfriend, dick.” Ryan adds with a snarl. Pete stands up with a stretch.

“Your  _friend_  is a vampire, Ross.”

Ryan instantly laughs. “You’re an idiot. Seriously. Thanks for nothing.” He stands to leave but Pete rolls his eyes and cuts him off.

“You came to me, Ross. No one comes to me for advice unless they’re looking for something completely ridiculous as the answer.”

Ryan admits to himself that, yes, when Bill had wanted to know about goat porn he’d gone to Pete. And when Jon had wanted to know about Area 51 he’d gone to Pete…

Pete had been right both times.

“ _Look_ …” Pete adds, twirling on his heels to walk away from where Ryan was staring blankly at the door of the basement, trying to force himself to leave. “…he’s gone for a week, enough time for him to transform and feed. He was probably bitten the night of the concert or something. He wears the glasses and hoodie to keep the sun out of his eyes cause like…the sun is like fucking kryptonite to those motherfuckers. And that’s why he flipped shit when you opened a curtain, that’s like turning on a stereo in a hangover guy’s ear. And your breath? He probably thought you smelled like breakfast you dumbass. Hence him not eating anything…he wants you blood not your bacon, Ross.”

Ryan had stopped staring the door and begun pacing like a manic. That couldn’t be because… be-fucking-cause it couldn’t!

“That d-doesn’t explain the scarf.” He tries. Anything  _not_  to justify what Pete was saying. Anything.

Pete grins a big, creepy, Cheshire cat’s grin. “He took it from the chick…or gay dude he had for dinner that night. Duh. The signs are obvious. No wonder you’re failing Analysis.”

Ryan stops in horror because no. Spence is kind of anti-social but he wouldn’t fucking kill an innocent person! No…

Then he realizes. “How the fuck do you know I’m failing analysis?! You’re not even in  _school_!”

At this point Pete has heard this question so many times and paraphrased in so many ways that he has a set answer.

“I’ve got men working inside.” He says. Ryan curses when he thinks of Patrick.

“Well, Ross. Hate to be a bad host and all, but you need to get the fuck out, I’ve got shit to do. I don’t need you gaying up the place.”

“You’ve fucked every boy in town and  _I’m_  gaying up the place? Isn’t kind of hypocritical?” Ryan asks him and Pete eyes him predatorily. Gosh Pete can pull off pedophile really well.

“I haven’t fucked  _every_  boy…right, Ross?”

Ryan makes a disgusted noise and slinks away. Pete laughs victoriously.

“Fuck you, Wentz!”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, baby!” Pete hollers after Ryan who had made a dash for the large basement door.

Fucking Wentz.

But now Ryan had bigger problems on his hands. One, he had to pee.

Two, he had Analysis homework…and as Pete said…he’s failing it.

And three and perhaps most importantly…

His best friend may or may not be a blood sucking creature of the night.

God damn Ryan needs an aspirin.

 

** Part Three **

“Ryan….” Brendon stares at his friend, concern flooding his too-handsome features.

“Ryan, what is up with you?” He tries again. Ryan paces back and forth, flailing madly as if he’s drowning in air. Jon chuckles from his spot beside the open window.

“Ryan-”

“SHUT  _UP_ , BRENDON! Just…” Ryan collapses onto his bed, head buried deep into his Aladdin pillow. He makes a painful noise as Brendon sits on the edge of the bed. Jon stands next to the window looking bored.

Brendon knows (through years of practice and massive blowouts) that attempting to comfort Ryan Ross in a time of turmoil will easily be the worst thing a person could  _ever_  do…. _ever_. So, he settles to twiddle his thumbs impatiently, knowing Ry will spill when he’s calmed down a bit.

But…

Problem with Ryan and calming down is that it could take from a couple minutes to a couple  _months_ …luckily for Brendon and Jon; it only takes three episodes of Dirty Jobs before Ryan sits up and sniffles.

“It’s Pete…” Is what Ryan says, voice cracking. He hadn’t been crying— he doesn’t fucking cry. But he had been dry sobbing. Men do that. Right? Absolutely.

Or at least Ryan does.

Jon shuffles over lazily and leans against Ryan’s bed post. ‘What is with this guy and leaning? Does he ever fucking sit?!’ Ryan finds himself thinking as he eyes Jon up and down.

“I thought you called us over about Spence.” Jon points out. Ryan rolls his eyes. He tends to be a bitch when he’s nervous or hungry or tired or his best friend becomes an undead, bloodsucking moron. Please, forgive him.

“It IS about Spencer, dipshit.” He responds, tweaking Jon on the elbow roughly. “It’s about Pete…no.” Ryan rephrases it all in his head. “It’s about something that Pete told me about that might have something to do with what might be going on with Spencer.”

Jon and Brendon exchange ‘WTF’ looks before blurting out a simultaneous “What?!”

Ryan growls in the back of his throat and stands again, pacing and talking extremely fast.

“I don’t know if you two  _noticed_  at all but our best friend, Spencer— Remember him?—disappeared off the face of mother fucking earth for 6 fucking days! Ring any bells?!” Ryan demanded an answer but began to rant again before Brendon or Jon could give one.

“And he comes back as pale as  _dry dog shit_ , wearing fucking sunglasses and a hoodie and designer sneakers! Spencer hates ALL of those things! And when has Spencer ever been UN-clumsy?! Huh? Or, or, or what…how…can…SPENCER IS A VAMPIRE!” Ryan blurts out the last part uncontrollably.

His eyes dart from Brendon (who looks about ready to vomit or  _cry_ ) to Jon (who is expressionless).

“Ross, you’ve finally lost it. I told Brendon that it would only be a matter of time…” Jon says finally, shaking his head in mock shame. Brendon’s lip quirks up in a sympathetic smile. ‘They really think I’m crazy, don’t they?’ Ryan asks himself then realizes that he just ASKED himself a question and curses out loud.

“Fuck! Look, Spencer is a vampire…see—“ Ryan runs over to pull the silky lavender scarf from his dresser drawer and Brendon rolls his eyes.

“A  _scarf_? How does one of your many, MANY scarves prove that Spencer is a vampire, Ryan?”

Ryan sighs and rubs his temple with his free hand. ‘God damn morons.’ He groans inwardly.

“Spencer  _bought_  me this—“ He places air quotes around ‘bought’. “—but as you all know, Spencer hates scarves and won’t touch one for all the tea in China.”

“Spencer hates China too though, Ryan.”

“Shut up, Brendon!” Ryan and Jon spit at the same time. Brendon sinks into himself. Ryan rubs his shoulder to let him know he didn’t mean to yell at him.

“S’not the point. Point is, the only time Spencer buys us shit is when he really fucks up, right?” Ryan doesn’t wait for an answer. “So imagine how badly he’s fucked up this time…in order to get me  _this_.” Ryan waves the scarf like a white flag.

“Look, Ross…do you have any…hard evidence that Spencer is a vampire. I mean, sure he’s fucked up but… _c’mon_.” Jon tilts his head as if it’s helping to make a point.

Ryan stares out the window. He hadn’t wanted it to come to this. He really hadn’t.

“Fine…tonight, we sneak in through his window and we string some garlic onto his bed. Set up a mirror and open the curtains. We stake out until dawn and when he wakes his vampy ass up, BAM!” Ryan flails a dramatic hand gesture that makes Brendon fall off of the bed.

“Ross—“

“Walker…”

Jon and Ryan have a mini western-style stare down in the middle of the room before Jon sighs in defeat. Ryan grins.

“Excellent. Tonight…we make our move.”

**

The three boys sat upstairs in Ryan’s room watching the Bo Burnham special on repeat, drinking tons of coffee and coke until 4am that morning.

“Do we really have to go to that weirdo’s house, Ryan?” Brendon grumbles as they sneak downstairs. Ryan shushes him. They all wore black t-shirts, jeans and hoodies and carried empty back packs.

By ‘That weirdo’ Brendon was accurately referring to Pete. “Yes, Brendon. How  _else_  are we going to get what we need?”

“Wal-mart?”

“For  _free_. Brendon?” Ryan chides. He can see Brendon give a shrug as the exit the house.

They all pile into Jon’s crappy Honda and Brendon complains about claustrophobia.

Pete lives in the suburbs— which is ironic because Pete hates society and all things that have to do with it.

They drive with the radio turned low, ABBA filling the tiny space that smelled of old nachos and gym socks.

“Does he know we’re coming? What if he’s asleep?” Jon asks as they turn onto Pete’s street. Ryan’s sure that Pete has  _people_ watching them or something.

“Yeah, Yeah. He knows  _everything_. And he’s like nocturnal or something. He doesn’t sleep.” Ryan clarifies.

“Better be right, Ross.” Jon mutters as they shut of their headlights and park across the street.

They all hop out, Brendon tripping and Ryan having to catch him…twice. They run around back to where the basement doors are and knock on the rotting wood three times.

After what seems like ages and Brendon screaming about a raccoon trying to  _mug_  him, Pete pushes the wooden doors out, nearly knocking the boys to the ground in one hit.

“Oh God…what do you fags want?” Pete scratches his messy black hair. He has a pen tucked behind his ear and a pensive look on his face.

“Help…we need supplies.” Ryan announces boldly and Pete eyes him, lips hanging open in a donkey-like fashion.

“Errg…” Pete opens the doors wider and lets them in, muttering something like: “What in the fuck…wizard of oz.…fags?”

Inside Pete’s basement, It seems somehow MORE creepy than when Ryan had been there during the day. For one, Pete’s dog was guarding the room like a fucking gargoyle until Pete kicked him in the tush and he went running.

“So you and your buddies going to go off your vampire boyfriend, eh?” Pete says conversationally as he digs through a huge trunk of shit. He tosses out four long strings of garlic, some heavy-duty flashlights, three hand mirrors and a wooden stake.

Jon is laughing at the ‘boyfriend’ bit while Ryan is NOT amused.

“No, actually, dick. I’m trying to get proof that he’s actually a vampire.” He says. Pete makes an inconsequential sound before reaching down and bolting the trunk, re-securing about 17 locks.

“Right then. I’m telling you, Ross. You friend is a mosquito…I know these things.” Pete muses. Ryan has this frighteningly vapid thought of putting the stake through PETE’S heart to see if HE is vampire, but it goes away as soon as Brendon coughs.

“It’s almost um…dawn…” Brendon was trying to talk but Pete had begun circling him with a smirk.

“Ah, Urie…how’s it hanging, short stuff?” Pete breathes into Brendon’s ear and Brendon shivers before yanking Ryan toward the basement doors urgently. Brendon is shit terrified that Pete will molest him.

“Thanks, Wentz…” Ryan manages to call back as they ascend the creaky steps. He faintly hears Pete laughing manically.

What a weirdo!

**

Its 8 minutes till dawn when they make it to Spence’s. They’d have been there 30 minutes earlier but Jon had to piss and Brendon had a meltdown.

“Okay guys—“ Ry begins, standing outside Spencer’s window. They’d climbed Ginger grape vine.“—keep a low stance, keep your lights on. Jon and I are going to string the garlic around the bed. Brendon, you set up the mirrors and open the curtains.”

Jon nods, all go on the plan. Brendon looks nauseous with just a hint of vertigo. “I…are you guys sure?”

“You can always go over to Pete’s till we’re done…” Ryan suggests and Brendon is the first to break the locks on Spencer’s window.

Inside it was dead silent and pitch black. Ryan turns the flashlight on and shines it around the room. It seems human enough except for the big lump on the bed…

Spencer’s eyes are shut and his body is statuesque. Is he even  _breathing_?

He makes a hand waving movement to signal Jon and Brendon in behind him as he starts to line the bed with the garlic. Jon eventually joins him as Brendon carries out his tasks with a bitter expression on his usually sweet face.

Ryan keeps a close eye on Spencer the entire time to make sure he doesn’t wake up. He doesn’t. He looks  _dead_.

“Here comes the sun…” Brendon whispers and Jon and Ry try not to flail at the Beatles reference.

Sure enough, the sun is peaking. It is ironically epic that Spencer’s window faces the sun rise.

Ryan could feel pure anticipation and a little fear building up in his stomach as the sun rose. They tilted the mirrors at the window until the beams bounce off and hit Spencer’s face head on.

Then…

All hell breaks loose.

**

Spencer springs from the bed in a flash of pale white and plaid PJs. Ryan is thrown to the ground, Brendon into the door, and Jon into the armoire.

The boys are trying frantically to see what is going on but all light is gone when the garlic flies out the window and the curtains seem to snap shut on their own.

It was like a live tornado flaring around Ryan, Brendon and Jon until, suddenly it all just stopped.

When Ryan looks up, he sees what he would  _assume_  to be Spencer, but this thing looks absolutely and utterly  _pissed_. He’s seen Spencer pissed but…not like this.

“S-Spence?” Brendon was the first to try and stand…to reach for this Spencer-thing but he was on his ass again in an instant.

Spencer made a growling noise then turned, his back facing the three boys.

“What the  _fuck_ , guys?” Spencer finally speaks up, but his voice sounds strained. Controlled.

None of the boys answer out of fear for their lives because it’s pretty clear that Pete was right and Spencer is about to suck their blood…

Ryan is about to speak when Jon and Brendon turn on him. “IT WAS ALL RYAN’S IDEA!”

‘Son of a bitch.’ Ryan finds himself thinking as Spence finally turns around and— although it’s dark—Ryan can tell it’s  _their_  Spencer now.

“Pete.” Is all Spencer says, staring Ryan down, and his blue eyes twinkling unnaturally. Ryan nods curtly, finally managing to stand. He could look Spencer in the eye now.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. It was just man…you were acting so weird and like…when I asked…”

“I needed some time, Ryan. It’s not like…coming out of the closet or anything. Its life or death here ya know? I couldn’t just  _tell_  you. When it happened you guys were in the Blink show having fun, and I met this girl, Hayley. She and I talked for a while and she asked me to come to her place. So I did. And all I remember is us fucking and like…waking up in a ditch. And I just felt…so thirsty…so I followed my instincts to a lady walking on 8th Avenue, caught her in the alley and…”  Spencer sits on the corner of his bed now, letting his head fall into his palms.

By now Brendon and Jon had stood too and are gathered around Spencer—though not  _too_  close.

Ryan is now sitting beside Spencer on the bed because vampire or no, this guy is his best fucking friend.

“But dude…it’s not like we would’ve hated you for it. It’s  _you_. We can’t blame you for being you.” Jon says at this point, hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“Yeah, Spence. Like…as long as you don’t bite me or anything, I’m not going anywhere.” Brendon chuckles out, ruffling Spencer’s hair.

Ryan doesn’t say a word, just rubs his best friend’s back.

After what had to have been an hour because they could hear Ginger getting dressed for work, Spencer looks up, a dark warning in his eyes. It made the three of them draw back.

“You pull some shit like THIS again, and I’ll fucking rip your throats out. You almost killed me!” Spencer warns, voice low, sending vibrations through the boys’ bodies.

They all nod simultaneously because— Hey, no one want’s to die.

In a random spurt of curiosity, Ryan asks, “Is um…Is Pete a vampire too?”

At this Spencer rolls his shiny eyes. “No one knows WHAT Pete is.  _Pete_  doesn’t even know what Pete is… That’s a mystery better left unsolved, my friend.”

They all laugh because, A) Somehow—just like always—Pete was right. B) Spencer is a vampire and he’s managing to sit here and JOKE about it. And C)—

“Gosh, I guess it’s time for breakfast then.” Spencer says, fangs poking out.

Brendon runs out the bedroom door and you can hear Ginger scream in surprise.

 Jon hops out of the window and yells “Oh, shit!” When he realizes he’s on the edge of the roof.

 But Ryan?

Ryan kisses Spencer on the cheek because…

Spencer Smith is Ryan Ross’ best friend. No matter what.


	2. Chapter 2

I don’t really know where to begin, here. I suppose beginning at the beginning is the best. I’ll start by saying sorry. I have been missing from AO3 for something to the tune of five years. The last time I uploaded or even wrote anything was when I was at the prime age of 19. Well, hello, I’m 24 and after reading the messages from everyone who took the time to read my fics, I have decided to keep writing.

I don’t know if anyone will read this, if anyone will give a shit, but the bandom has evolved. We’ve lost some bands, we’ve gotten others back. Some have disappeared completely. But they live on in our hearts- just as inspiring and homo-erotic as we all love to remember. 

Some of you guys are long time enjoyers of my content and I would love to hear your preferences on my current unfinished works and what you want to be updated first.

I will begin uploading again on Friday, October 13th with a nice spoopy drabble for you all to feast upon. I do however need some suggestions. That means if you’d like a specific pairing, maybe a specific band, scenario, setting… Just leave it in the comments and I will work with what I receive. 

It will be a 3-part anthology. I will shoot for a solid three stories and attempt to tie them together by the final chapter (think, American Horror Story: Bandom).

It’s going to be fucking awesome. 

Again, thank you guys for your continued support over the years here on AO3 and I can’t wait to hear some of your ideas!

-Cobrapandemic


End file.
